This Christmas Feels Like the Very First Christmas to Me
by GraysTedious
Summary: "It's their first Christmas away from home and Sodapop insists that they have to do it right." Stevepop.


**A/N: Originally published 12/15/18 on Archive Of Our Own**

It's their first Christmas away from home.

Well, okay, technically that's not really true; they'll be down at the Curtis house by the afternoon to celebrate and swap presents with the whole gang just like they always have. But still, it's their first Christmas in their first shitty apartment together that they've been living in for almost four months and Steve's not really usually the sentimental one, but he feels like that counts for something.

Sodapop, meanwhile, is absolutely certain that it does, and they've been insisting that the two of them_ have _to do Christmas _right _the first time. But Soda is the sort of person who likes seeing Christmas decorations up for sale at Walmart at the beginning of November, so it's not like Steve is really surprised.

And it's not like Steve's an asshole who hates Christmas; it's just that he grew up in a house where it wasn't really celebrated. Not after his mom walked out. That first year without her was the fucking worst of all. Christmas morning came around and there was nothing. No decorations, no tree. No presents, for sure. (No Santa Claus, and _even if there was, it's not like you'd be getting anything you little shit. _) And no liquor left in the house once his dad was through with it.

Things got better, after that year. They usually at least got a tree, and if his dad was in a good mood he'd give Steve a couple of bucks, but it's not like their Christmases were ever particularly cozy.

But Soda grew up in a home with a family who went all-out on the holidays. Steve can maybe recall one or two fuzzy half-memories of Christmas at home when his mom was still around but he's got at least a dozen crystal clear ones from over at the Curtises: baking cookies and wrapping presents and watching movies and drinking cocoa and stringing together popcorn garlands, hanging up ornaments… And Soda and their brothers have always put their whole hearts into keeping that alive every year after their parents were dead. Steve gets it.

So, he helps put up the decorations Soda brought home from Goodwill and the 99 Cents Only Store all around the apartment and spends a whole afternoon shifting the furniture around in their tiny-ass living room to try and make room for a tree. He goes and gets one himself after work the next day and brings it home as a surprise, dragging it all the way up the three flights of stairs and through the door all by himself. It's kind of small and sort of shabby but at least it's a real one and either way Sodapop loves it, and the crisp scent of evergreen now drifting through their too-cold flat makes the bitch that is picking up fallen pine needles totally worth it.

When it's finally all done, when they've got the lights strung and ornaments hung and a big golden gift bow on top because the fucking thing's too flimsy to hold a proper star, of course he's proud of the both of them and it sure does look nice, but he doesn't really appreciate in full until towards the very end of Christmas Eve.

He and Sodapop are lying out in the living room in a blanket fort they built because they're fucking adults. It's pitch-black outside, save for the snowflakes swirling through the night, and the twinkling lights all around them cast everything in a soft golden glow, and yeah, okay. It's beautiful.

It's not just that it's beautiful. It…_ feels _like Christmas.

Somehow, Soda always manages to at least halfway read his mind. "Told you it'd be good," they mumble lowly, nuzzling closer into Steve's side.

And Steve can't help grinning to himself like an idiot as he wraps his arm around their shoulders and hums. "Yeah."

He never wants to forget this. The almost-ache in his chest, the warmth and the lights and the snow outside and his ridiculous, wonderful boyfriend falling asleep against him.

"Merry Christmas, Soda," he murmurs, his lips brushing against their forehead.

Sodapop's smile shines gold in the dark and they turn their face up for a proper kiss. "Merry Christmas."


End file.
